The Last Laugh
by Unassailable Heart
Summary: Damian is happy. Something is very, very wrong.


Damian stared at his older brother as if he grown a second head. "What?"

Dick nodded seriously. "I mean it, Damian. Try to be more positive."

Damian ran the curry comb over Bat-Cow's side. "I don't do _positive_."

"You should try, you're very serious for a ten year old, and it's a long standing Robin tradition to be the lighter side of Batman and Robin!" Dick said.

Damian opened his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but then closed it, and looked at Dick thoughtfully. "Fine."

Dick raised an eyebrow; he hadn't expected it to this easy. "I'm sorry?"

Damian sighed. "Try and pay attention. I will be positive for the next- hmm, two days. And when Father comes to you terrified and begging for help, you will feed Bat-Cow for the next two weeks."

Dick snorted. "Damian, a few cheerful words aren't going to break Bruce."

Damian smiled "Just you watch, Grayson."

…

Bruce Wayne yawned; trudging down the stairs at ten in the morning. Patrol had been difficult, but there was a charity gala to attend that afternoon, and he had to get ready for that, and convince his young son not to scowl through the whole thing. Something he had yet to accomplish.

"Good morning!" a happy young voice said behind Bruce. He turned around, but all he saw was Damian. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Then who-?

"Damian?" Bruce asked.

Damian grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "Good morning!" he repeated.

Bruce shook his head to clear it. He must have gotten a concussion last night, there was no way his son actually sounded that happy. "Uh, good morning. What are you doing with the rope?" last time he had tried to hang Tim…

Damian held it aloft. "I'm gonna use it to jump rope! Its good healthy exercise, don't you think?"

"Um, I suppose. Have fun?" Bruce said weakly. This was strange…

Damian nodded, and skipped off towards the front door.

"Alfred, when was the last time we fought the Joker?" Bruce asked, sitting down at the table for breakfast.

Alfred swept a few crumbs off the table. "Two weeks ago, sir, why you are asking?"

Bruce frowned at his eggs. "Damian was acting strangely this morning."

"I did notice that, sir," Alfred admitted. "He came in, inquiring if we had any cereal."

"Damian doesn't like cereal," Bruce said, standing up. "Alright, I'm gonna go find him. Do some blood tests."

"Indeed sir," Alfred said, clearing Bruce's plate.

…

Bruce found his youngest son outside, in a tree. This, in itself, wasn't unusual. What was odd was that Damian appeared to be- playing pirates.

"Prepare to be boarded, you scallywags!" Damian swung from one branch to another. "First mate- first mate, stop playing with butterflies and help me," Damien said severely to his cat, which was wearing a small paper pirate hat.

Bruce coughed. "Damian."

Damian dropped to a branch in front of Bruce and hung there upside down. "Hiya!"

"Batcave. Now."

"Ok, are we going on patrol?" Damian asked, dropping down and grabbing his father's hand, swinging it back and forth as they walked into the house.

 _What is wrong with this boy?_ Bruce wondered, letting Damian- hold his hand. Damian chattered all the way down to the cave about what he had eaten for breakfast. Then he sat, swinging his legs on the examination table as Bruce took a few vials of blood for testing.

"What are you testing my blood for?" Damian asked, turning a cartwheel.

"For traces of any Joker Toxin," Bruce said.

"We haven't fought the Joker for weeks!" Damian said with a snort. "Oh, maybe he sent us some in a flower arrangement!"

"Have Batman and Robin received any flowers?"

"Well not recently…"

The computer beeped, and Bruce studied the results. Clean of everything. Then what was wrong with the child?

"Damian, have you encountered a being called Bat-Mite recently?"

Damian shook his head. "Nope, who's he? Sounds fun!"

Bruce growled. "No, not fun. Not fun at all. Go back upstairs."

…

Bruce emerged several hours later, hungry and annoyed. There was nothing in Damian's blood that would be making him act this way!

He entered the dining room and stopped short. Damian was running around the table with various pieces of cutlery, setting the table. What on earth?

"You're frightening me, Damian."

Damian stepped back and surveyed the table critically. "Gosh, Bruce, you're right. I put the napkin on the wrong side!" he switched that to the other side of the plate, then looked up at Bruce, smiling.

"….Why are you calling me Bruce?"

"Well," Damian said, sitting down cross legged on a chair. "We've gotten so close recently… but you're right, using your first name is disrespectful. How about 'Dad'?"

Bruce pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry today. You go ahead and eat son."

"Oh," Damian, said, pushing his veggies around on his plate. "I set the table all special, I was hoping we could eat together, you always say that mealtimes with Jason were fun…"

Bruce looked at the crestfallen countenance of his son, and felt guilty. "Well, I suppose I could have a few bites…"

Damian bounced excitedly in his chair, not bothering to hide his grin. "Thanks Dad!"

Bruce groaned internally.

…

Tim Drake surveyed the dessert table at the Wayne charity gala critically. These brownies looked too dry to be Alfred's, but there was another plate farther down…

"Hello Tim!" chirped a happy little voice. Tim froze, turning around slowly.

"Damian? What do you want?"

Damian took another step closer. "Just saying hi to my big brother. I'm so glad you're here!"

Tim decided this must be an elaborate plot to humiliate and then kill him. "That's great, now if you don't mind, I have to say hi to some people."

"I'll come!" Damian said, falling into step beside Tim. Darn, the kid was good.

A man from another company that Wayne enterprises was buying out engaged Tim's attention, and Damian seemed perfectly content to just stand there next to Tim, smiling like it was the best thing in the world to be in his presence. Tim wasn't sure if this was good or bad.

"Ooh, who is this little man?" cooed a blonde girl whose name may have been Carla.

"I'm Damian Wayne," announced Damian Wayne. "This is my brother Tim."

Tim waved awkwardly. "Hey."

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "I can see the resemblance. I'm Carol." _Carol, not Carla. So close._

"You're pretty," Damian said sweetly.

Carol turned her attention back to the younger boy. "Aww, thank you, honey! You're a little cutie yourself."

Damian smiled and scuffed at the floor with his shoe.

"Um, care to dance?" Tim offered.

Carol grabbed his hand. "I'd love to! You know, you're kinda cute yourself…"

"You're leaving, Tim?" Damian asked, crestfallen.

Carol giggled and pinched his cheek. "We'll be back, honey! Don't you go away, now!"

"Ok," Damian agreed.

Tim sent him a suspicious look as he led Carol onto the dance floor.

…

Later that night, Tim was still giving Damian suspicious looks, but slightly less severely. Damian had refused to leave his side all night, and hadn't been rude to the female guests as he usually was, and Tim now had the numbers of six girls. Apparently, Damian was extremely cute. One girl had said he looked like a panda. Tim was still waiting for the humiliation and murder.

Bruce walked over, sitting next to his sons. "Almost done?"

Tim looked around at the thinning amount of guests. "Yeah, think I'll head out. Bye, Bruce. Damian," Tim said standing up and stretching. Damian quickly stood up too, and before Tim could react, put his arms around Tim's waist and hugged him.

"Bye Tim."

Tim stared at the child, then slowly put his arms around him, and patted his back. "Um, bye? And, thanks. This was-fun. I guess."

Damian stepped back, and for a moment he looked his old serious self, but then he smiled. "Good."

…

Bruce freely admitted it, he was avoiding his son. After the card game Damian had begged Bruce to play with him after lunch, and the sparring session Damian had goofed off during, and the odd display of brotherly affection toward Tim (who Damian usually couldn't stand) and all the chatting about how great the gala had been before dinner, Bruce couldn't take it anymore, and had excused himself from dinner.

And now, as the sun had set and the skies were dark, it was time to patrol Gotham. Bruce was still on the fence over where or not to take his son with him. Maybe Dick could take him for the night? Bruce got up, and headed to Damian's room. There were rumors that Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy were teaming up to rob a jewelry store, and he could use all the help he could get.

He paused outside Damian's door, listening.

"Ok, Titus, this is my variation on double Dutch. When I give the word, we switch places."

Alright, just playing with his pets. Bruce opened the door and strode in. "Damian, its time-"

"Ok!"

Bruce shook his head, and looked confusedly to his right, where Titus (Damian had taught a dog to jump rope?) was jumping a rope with one end tied to the handle of the closet, and the other in Bruce's hand. He looked to the left, and saw a grinning Damian jumping a rope with one end tied to the bed, and the other in Bruce's other hand. "ALFRED!"

Alfred materialized in the doorway. "Sir?"

"Get me out of this!" Bruce demanded.

"Sir, may I suggest getting out the same way you got in?" Alfred left. _I need a new butler…_

Bruce glared at his son. "Damian, what are you doing?"

Damian stopped jumping, getting hit in the face with the rope in the process. "Gosh, dad, what am I doing? It's nighttime, Gotham needs us! To the cave!" Damian ran out of the room, leaving Bruce to play jump rope with a dog.

…

Bruce watched Ivy and Harley through the window of the jewelry store. They had been examining the locked cases for a few minutes, and Harley had just now unlocked one and was fingering the necklaces. "Ok Robin, now."

Damian nodded, and they swung through the window. Bruce knocked over Ivy, and Damian aimed a kick at Harley's face, which she dodged.

"Aw, look whose come visiting!" cried Ivy, from the floor. "Batman and Robin! How nice."

"He's so cute!" squealed Harley.

"Me or Batman?" Damian asked.

"Oh, both, sweetie!" Harley said, pulling out a gun. "Have fun in heaven!"

Damian flipped out of the way, taking cover behind a counter. "Holy bullets Batman! We have to stop them before they wreck private property!"

"That's it!" Bruce yelled, hurling a piece of metal at Ivy, knocking her out. "Harley, turn yourself in. I have pressing matters to take care of."

Harley snorted. "Make me, you big-"

 _Crack!_

Harley dropped, revealing Damian holding an eskrima stick. "Although you've told me to never hit a wom-"

"Batmobile, now!" Bruce ordered.

"Ok!"

After they had walked to the batmobile in silence, Bruce turned, grabbing his son's shoulders. "Dick!"

"That's rude-"

Bruce growled, and Damian shut up.

Bruce took a deep breath. "You are acting like Dick. Have you somehow switched minds? Dick, you are horrible at doing Damian."

Damian shook his head. "No."

Possesed by Trigon?"

"Nope."

"The Mad Hatter then!" Bruce grabbed his sons head and checked behind his ears. "Nothing… One of Professor Pyg's?"

"No!"

" _Then what are you doing?_ " Bruce yelled.

"I'm just being positive…"

Bruce looked at his son. Hard. "Did Dick do this?"

"Yes."

"Get in. We're having a little family reunion."

…

Dick hummed to himself, pouring milk into his cereal for a nighttime snack. He was glad he had nothing to do tomorrow, between work and patrol, he was beat this week. He considered taking his food into his room, but then thought-

 _Knock knock knock knock knock!_

Dick started, spilling some cereal.

 _KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

"I'm coming! Hold your horses!" Dick yelled. He jerked the door open. "What do- Bruce?"

Bruce leveled him one of the nastiest bat glares Dick had ever received.

"Um, come in?" Dick said weakly. _Man, what did I do?_ He thought, racking his brains.

"Hi Dick!" said an overly sweet voice, and Damian followed his father into the living room.

 _Oh no… I am so feeding the Bat-Cow…._

Bruce sat down stiffly on the couch, and Dick sat in a chair across from him. Damian sat on the floor.

Bruce pointed at Damian. "I don't know what you've done, but you need to fix it. NOW."

Dick looked at Damian, who seemed quite absorbed in running his fingers through the carpet.

"I- I don't know how too. All I did was suggest he be more positive-" Dick stopped, Bruce was giving him the bat glare again.

"You don't understand," Bruce growled. "I have been with him all day. I have had all I can stand, and if you don't make him stop, I am leaving him here."

Dick tipped his head up, trying to think up a way to make Damian go back to normal. Maybe if he-

 _Oh._

 _Obvious._

"Hey Damian," Dick said.

"Hmm?"

"You win."

Damian stood up. "Tt. Of course I do."

"Oh, thank heavens," said Bruce, rubbing his forehead. "Dick, if you were still my ward, I would have grounded you for a month. Come on, Damian, we're going home."

Bruce walked stiffly out the door, and Damian followed. But before he could leave, Dick snagged his arm.

"Hey, how was being positive?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "Exhausting."

"You must have enjoyed some of it," Dick insisted.

"…"

"You did! Ha!" Dick ruffled his younger brother's hair.

"Get off! I did not!" Damian pushed him away and dodged out the door.

Dick shut it, and chuckled to himself.

…

Tim Drake stopped suddenly as he entered the Wayne Manor library. Damian was curled up in a chair, frowning at a book.

"Hey," Tim said, cautiously.

Damian looked up. "Hello," he greeted.

"Whatcha doing?"Tim inquired.

"U.S. History," Damian said sourly.

"Need any help?"

"…I suppose- yes," Damian said abruptly.

Tim pulled a chair next to Damian's. "Ok, what are you studying?"

"The civil war."

"Oh, that's a good one!"

….

Bruce passed by his library, and was distracted by voices. He peeked in to see Tim and Damian on the floor, Tim apparently heatedly explaining something to his brother. Whatever it was, they both seemed very absorbed. Bruce wondered for a minute if Damian had gone back to acting strangely, usually he and Tim were at each other's throats. Perhaps this warranted a call to Dick? But then he saw Tim grab a few books and line them up, explaining some maneuver, and Damian grabbed another and added to it, and Bruce decided that this, this he didn't mind.


End file.
